


Halcyon

by lethalia



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethalia/pseuds/lethalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was rapture's moral pause on the way to Sunday mass. He was the early riser who craved the words of the devout to be panacea. It was no wonder they gravitated towards one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halcyon

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic in years, attributed to the pairing of John Luther and Alice Morgan, post season 3 of BBC's epic, "Luther." Comments/critiques are encouraged. Kudos to you, fair friend.

She was everything he didn’t know he needed. She was the loss of light, the descent of gloom to his colossal sun. She encouraged the beast behind the bars, provoking and instigating until the flash of the key that would mark his freedom entered the lock.

She freed him and he didn’t know he was imprisoned. She was the burning red to his world-weary blue. She was the wisdom to his tempered rage and he hated her for it.

She tasted of sulfur and honey, for everywhere the blue-glass of her eyes looked, she tore the world asunder and from the rubble, beckoned the best of the world forth with her sweet words.

Sometimes, when they lay naked in sweat-tossed sheets in the suite of the latest place they stayed, he wanted to ask her what compelled her to kill her parents. Sometimes, it looked as if she had something to say, barbed wire caught at the base of her throat with words that would not come.

They knew the answers to the unspoken questions neither wished to say yet. They knew one another in the way only the bitterest of lovers and the tenderest of enemies knew one another, and still they chose to attach themselves towards one another’s orbit.

She was nibbling toast with jam on the edge of the over-sized mattress that did wonders for his bad back, her kiss-bruised thigh swinging back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum that would indicate when they would make love again when he compared them to Batman and Catwoman.

“You know, that movie they showed in the States.” She shrugged and handed him a cup of coffee and with a sip of the boiling black brew, he continued. “Batman pretends to fake his death, and Catwoman goes away with him.”

She nodded and the edge of her tongue broke the pale seam of her lips and even in the streaming light of the sun, the jam on her mouth looked like blood.

“Ah, so you are the brave hero who sacrifices all, and I am the dastardly cat burglar who has an appetite for fine diamonds, for rubies and all manner of sparkly trinkets,” she said, her night-gown parting to show the tops of her breasts as she placed the toast-dish on the bureau. “Now what,” she continued as she curled her arms around his neck, “are we ever to do about my appetite?”

He kissed her and felt full and sometime after, she confessed she was somehow never hungry around him.

He was no fool; he knew he couldn’t tame her. 

But where was the fun in being outside of the wilderness?


End file.
